


Memories Made From Your Touch

by queenie_writes



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Bye week vacation getaway, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 01:13:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21329803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenie_writes/pseuds/queenie_writes
Summary: Nolan likes to complain, but not about Nico. Sometimes getting away is just what they both need.
Relationships: Nico Hischier/Nolan Patrick
Comments: 3
Kudos: 51





	Memories Made From Your Touch

**Author's Note:**

> Normal disclaimer. this is an act of fiction (or is it...) if you or anyone you know is in this story please close the window and find yourself a witch who specializes in removing memories. 
> 
> All typos are mine. I'm saving them from their fate of being deleted. 
> 
> Also a BIG shoutout to DJ for help in a few spots when I was suffering from a migraine and couldn't see the scene clear enough. And a shoutout to my hawkey bestie Lizz for ALWAYS being there to support my chaotic and crazy ideas. 
> 
> Both of you are amazing and wonderful and I simply adore you.

“It’s so hot out,” Nolan whines as he drapes himself over the arm of the couch. He doesn’t like the heat, his body wasn’t designed to deal with it. He gets blotchy when he’s too warm and his skin burns like a redhead's. He’s Canadian for Christ sakes, snow, he’s used to the snow. Not that he likes that any better. 

“You complain too much,” is the reply he gets, but there is a chuckle on the winds that follow the words. Nico’s smile is brighter than the sun and it’s infectious. Nolan can’t help the grin that spreads across his face. 

“How are you not having a heat stroke?” Nolan counters as he glances up at him. 

“Maybe because I know how to dress for a tropical getaway?” Nico offers. He’s dressed in a pair of red swim trunks and lacking any sort of shirt. Nolan can’t recall a time when Nico had a shirt on since they’d landed and gotten checked into their hotel. Not that he’s complaining, of course. 

“I know how to dress,” Nolan says. The words were meant to sound indignant but instead showcase the pout his smile has morphed into. “We can’t all be tan gods of summer. Some of us prefer the winter god status.” 

Nico snorts. It’s a sound that shouldn’t be attractive, but somehow is when it comes from him. “You also hate winter.”

“Shut up,” Nolan grumps as he flops back over the arm of the couch in their hotel room. He doesn’t like having his words used against him, even if Nico is right. Nolan hates the snow almost as much as he hates the sun. He really only likes the fall. It’s cool and crisp and he can go outside without dying. “It’s barely past breakfast and I’m already sweaty and gross.” 

Nico sits at the table both of them had occupied while enjoying their light breakfast. Nolan had gotten tired of the uncomfortable chairs and decided to throw himself over the couch instead. “I will not.” Nico’s chair scraps across the floor as he gets up from the table, abandoning his cup of coffee, how he’s drinking hot coffee is beyond Nolan anyway. The movement causes Nolan to shift so that he can watch Nico as his head hangs upside down. Blue eyes track the movement of the other boy, watching as he looms closer. Nico stops just in front of Nolan and glances down at him. 

The knowledge that his face is level with Nico’s crotch doesn’t go uncollected and he files the thought away for another time. Though, perhaps not another place. Nico grins down at Nolan and raises an eyebrow one of his spectacular eyebrows. He has also noticed the positioning, Nolan is sure of it. Instead of saying anything, however, Nico bends at the waist and places a kiss to Nolan’s lips. It’s awkward and reminds Nolan of that scene in that Spider-Man movie he’s not sure which one, whatever, he was never a fan of the franchise anyway. “Let’s go swimming,” Nico offers. “Cool you off. Maybe it’ll stop you from whining.” 

It won’t. They both know it, but Nolan considers the options before him. Go swimming, which is, admittedly a good idea. Or... 

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of Nico’s swim trunks and tugs him closer. “I’d rather stay in,” he says with a grin. His fingers trail up the inside of Nico’s thigh, teasing a path toward Nolan’s true destination. He’s rewarded with a little huff of sound that comes through Nico’s nose and he smirks. “Yeah, I didn’t think you’d object.” His tongue flicks out and wets his lips as he looks up at Nico where he looms over him. 

Objectively the position Nico is in is not flattering. The angles Nolan has on him are dull and wide, weirdly settled but he’s still gorgeous, still everything that Nolan finds attractive. Perhaps he’s been hanging upside down too long and all the blood is rushing to his head so thinking is harder than normal, but. 

Nico runs his fingers through Nolan’s hair, his long locks twisting around expert digits. “What do you have planned in the head of yours?” He asks as he tugs on the strands. Nolan’s been letting his hair grown since the draft, but he’s allowed himself a trim over the summer. Still, it’s a decent length by the bye week and when Nico tugs, Nolan can’t help the little groan that vibrates through his throat. He can actually feel the vibration with the way he’s bent over the arm of the couch. 

A wicked grin spreads across Nico’s lips at the sound Nolan makes. The look is mirrored back at him, though when Nolan’s fingers slip between his legs. He palms Nico through the fabric of the swim trunks and earns a groan. He likes that sound, he likes it, even more, when its paired with Nico’s eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck my throat,” Nolan says brazenly. He’s not shy about what he wants, not when it comes to Nico. 

Nico’s been by his side for years, his rock whenever the world starts pushing in on him. He was the strength Nolan didn’t know he needed or wanted. There was never a moment where he found himself feeling selfconscious in front of him. From their first game against each other to now, Nolan has always felt like he can be exactly as he’s meant to be. Nico was a sort of safety Nolan hadn’t thought existed. 

Nico’s hands slip from Nolan’s hair dropping to his side just as his voice drops, the drawl of his voice is deeper as he swears under his breath. Nolan’s words, coupled with his actions force a reaction from Nico’s body. It’s an empowering feeling, knowing Nolan caused that reaction. No matter how many times he elicits it, he can’t help but love it. His free hand grabs for Nico’s hip and pulls him in closer, close enough that he can get his mouth on him, even through his swim trunk. He mouths over the growing bulge in Nico’s trunks, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks in, he savors the deep sigh that comes from the other’s mouth. Nolan’s eyes travel upward until they meet Nico’s brown ones, heavy-lidded with want as he struggles to keep his hands at his sides. Boldly, he grabs one of Nico’s calloused hands - fuck, he wants them to trace patterns on his body - and places them where they had been before. He gives an encouraging groan, wordlessly begging Nico to touch. Nico tightens his grip in response, watching intently as Nolan continues to mouth at his dick through the trunks. 

“Off,” Nico pants impatiently, pawing with his free hand at his own waistband. Nolan chuckles, the vibrations making Nico moan loudly. 

He drags Nico’s pants off at an impossible speed, pressing small kisses to Nico’s thigh muscles for good measure. He licks at the sharp v in Nico’s hips, teasing him relentlessly, unwilling to give the younger what he wants just yet. 

“You’re such a tease,” comes the complaint above him, once again the grip tightening in his hair. Nolan moans at the tingling in his scalp, the motion sending heat straight to his belly. 

“Now who’s complaining?” Nolan counters, eyes canting up as he speaks. It’s not every day that he can get Nico to whine, but when he does, he cherishes it. 

“God, just, your mouth, hurry up-” Nico murmurs, biting his bottom lip to stifle the pleading in his tone. Nolan considers the option of drawing this out, of teasing him more, but he’d been the one to start this, Nico was, for all intent and purpose innocent in this chaos. So finally, finally, Nolan decides to listen, licking from his shaft to his tip. The sounds Nico makes are the things Nolan stores in the back of his mind and pulls out on long road trips when he’s on his own - a broken moan, almost a whimper, combined with what almost sounds like a growl. He swirls his tongue at Nico’s slit before taking as much as possible in one go. He surprises himself and Nico with his lack of a gag reflex. 

Nico’s moans echo almost too loudly throughout the hotel room, bouncing off the partially open walls that feed out into a semi-private pool. Nolan is too busy bobbing his head to care about how loud either of them is. He feels Nico’s dick hit the back of his throat and groans the best he can, making Nico’s moans louder than before. 

With each bob of his head, Nolan gains confidence until he stops bobbing and presses his hand against the small of Nico’s back, pushing him farther into his mouth than either of them had attempted. He’d asked Nico for something specific and until this moment it had been Nolan doing all of the work. 

“Are you sure, Nol? I don’t want to hurt you,” Nico says, strangled; the difficulty in not thrusting his hips shows. Nolan hums, the vibration moving through his throat and down Nico’s shaft. He runs his hands up and down Nico’s thighs as a comforting gesture, reassuring him of what he wants and letting him know that he knows what he’s asking. It works, and Nico slowly pulls his dick out until Nolan’s left suckling on the tip. 

Nico pushes himself back in Nolan’s mouth slowly, brushing his hair back where it had fallen. He repeats the motion, a little quicker this time, and Nolan keens, so glad that he’s getting what he wanted. He relaxes his jaw and lets Nico do the work, occasionally moaning in appreciation, the type he knows will drive Nico wild. With each thrust, Nico’s movements get bolder. They grow in strength and pace until he’s fully fucking Nolan’s mouth. Nico’s fingers tighten in Nolan’s hair, using his hold as leverage to keep the momentum up. Nolan’s hands are free to do as they please, and at the moment they need to attend to himself.

Nolan’s hard in the shorts he wears, having ignored himself and his own desires the entire time he teased Nico. His hand slips inside his shorts and his fingers wrap around himself.

“Fuck,” Nico says. His voice is a punch in the air, strangled and strained. Nolan’s eyes flick up to Nico’s face even as he pulls himself out of his shorts. He uses the precum that’s collected at the tip of his head to slick himself up. It’s not as smooth or as comfortable as it could be but he doesn’t care, he just wants to get off. He can hear the second that Nico’s moans get more high pitched. He can feel it when Nico gets closer to the edge of no return. He doesn’t do anything to change the way this is going, instead, the torque of his hand speeds up, he wants to come when Nico does, he wants this to be the reason both of them sag and fall over the end. 

“Nol,” Nico groans. Nolan knows that sound, knows what it means but he doesn’t stop and he doesn’t push Nico away. If he had the ability to speak he’d tell Nico to let go. To come. It’s what he wants. 

In the end, he doesn’t need to say anything. Nico’s hips go still after a few more thrusts and he comes all the way down Nolan’s throat. Nolan does his best to take it all in and breath through his nose as he does so, he’d rather not discover his gag reflex now. Nolan’s own hand pauses in his working over of himself as he focuses on finishing Nico off, his mind can’t do two things at once, at least not these two things. The moment Nico sags against the couch, body bent at the waist and looming over Nolan more, he has the ability to focus on himself. Nolan slides down the arm of the couch, righting himself a little and slipping off Nico. His throat is raw and a little sore but he pays no attention to that. His focus is on his hand around his dick, jerking himself off.

Nolan hears more than he sees Nico’s knees hit the floor of their little hotel room and then Nico’s hand joins Nolan’s hand. The addition of the extra pressure is Nolan’s undoing. He didn’t need much, already overstimulated and nearly past the point of no return before Nico even touched him. 

“Oh fuck,” Nolan says. The words are strangled from his throat, voice craggy and wrecked. It’s a combination of the abuse his throat just took and the sensations that spread through his veins like fire. 

Nico murmurs words in Nolan’s ear, words Nolan has no way of understanding. Either because his brain can’t comprehend words or because Nico has slipped back into his native tongue. Both are likely. 

When Nolan’s body relaxes, when his orgasm subsides he finds the heat of Costa Rica is more unbearable than before. Sweat beads off his skin as he rights himself on the couch. He’s a little dizzy and a lot flushed and weak. 

“That was a head rush,” he decides to say instead of complaining about the heat again. His eyes catch Nico’s and he smirks. Judging by the sheen on Nico’s tan skin he isn’t so unaffected by the heat as previously thought. Though perhaps it’s just Nolan he’s affected by. 

Nico tugs at the shirt Nolan wears and laughs. “Your shirt is a mess.

Nolan chances down at it and sure enough, the light blue polo is very much ruined. He’s not worried about it. “It’s yours,” he says with a grin before, “Wanna go swimming now?”. 

Somehow he’s more lively now than before, whereas Nico appears to be more subdued. It’s not really shocking, though. Nico is always pretty calm. Not as calm as some, but when levied against a few of the guys Nolan sees on a daily, Nico is positively zen. 

Nico blinks slowly and stands up, grabs his swim trunks and rucks them back up on to his hips from their position at his knees and shakes his head. “No,” he tells Nolan. “I think I want to stay in for a bit.” 

Nolan raises his eyebrow and watches as Nico walks over to the couch where he sits. Nolan allows himself a moment to toss the shirt he’d made a mess of over his head and onto the ground before adjusting his shorts again. If he’s not going out he likely doesn’t need a shirt anyway. 

Nico settles into the couch and curls into Nolan’s side. It’s far too hot for the human contact, but Nolan doesn’t complain about that, either. He doesn’t get to see Nico nearly as often as he would like, he’ll take all the contact he can get. 

“You owe me a new shirt,” Nico says smoothly while his head rests on Nolan’s shoulder. 

Nolan laughs, a slow soft chuckle that causing Nico to shift a little. “I’ll buy you a dozen if I have to.” He’s unapologetic about the ruined shirt and even less worried about having to purchase a new one. 

“One is fine. I’m not greedy.” 

Nolan presses a kiss to the top of Nico’s head and sinks lower into the couch as he wraps his arm around Nico’s shoulder. “One it is,” he says with a nod. 

One shirt was a small price to pay for a weekend of memories.

**Author's Note:**

> I really love comments and kudos. Spare one for the poor? 😆


End file.
